Tag Archives: crystal palace poetry

Unreliable Narrator

A young man who works as a waiter

Has a reputation as an unreliable narrator.

He has written a novel

In a rundown old hovel.

But some whisper, he’s only a waiter …!

spectacle

A young lady who wears 1 spectacle

Has a reputation for being very respectable.

I’ve seen her at night

Dancing by the moon’s light,

And she’s only been wearing 1 spectacle …!

I Have Heard it Said

I have heard it said

That girls kick a shoe under the bed

In a purely accidental way.

Then,  in retrieving their footwear they take care

To check for knives

Or other things that threaten lives.

 

 

And, should they find more than a shoe

(which some girls do),

They run from men

Who would harm them.

 

 

But not all girls do.

And of those who do

Not all make their escape …

Miss Nicola

A young lady known as Miss Nicola

Invites all the gentlemen to tickle her.

My friend Heather

Dresses in leather

And no gentlemen dares to tickle her …

Threadbare

The scent of cheap perfume

Pervades an overheated room.

She in her mini skirt

And too high heels.

He in t-shirt and jeans.

 

They play their scenes.

She loses skirt and heels

And feels

The threadbare carpet under her feet.

She wants to sleep …

 

Sometimes she weeps,

But not in front of them.

He sighs.

His fun is done.

Occasionally he cries,

Though not when they can see.

 

The same dance

Of no romance

Over and over again

To hide his pain.

 

She has a child to feed

Or perhaps some other need.

Sometimes  he wonders about them.

But they are free

As is he …

To choose …

 

Lin’s Disertation

I know a young lady named Lin

Who is writing a dissertation on sin.

My wife Coral

Finds her immoral.

But I’m really quite fond of Lin …

Elegy on a Former Neighbour

I passed by

Where you once lived

And remembered how you gazed at the stars

So far away.

 

It is cold today

But you are lost to frost and sunshine.

You denied the divine

Yet loved the starry sky.

 

No telescope can see where you are gone.

Yet I think you would agree with me

That we came from stardust

And must go

Beyond where the telescope can see

A Young Lady Whose Name is Mustard

A young lady whose name is Mustard

Said, “you are a no good bustard!”

I said to her, “Beth,

You bore me to death!

Go wash your hair in egg custard!”

 

Poetic Muse

When a young lady wearing just shoes

Said, “I want to be your poetic muse!”

I said to her, “Rose!

You are wearing no clothes!”

She said, “that’s how you like your muse …!”

 

Shadows of Poetry

In early January

My shadow goes in front of me.

The sun shines

But my hands are cold.

 

One day I know

My shadow will no longer go.

Though perhaps in rhyme

I will leave something behind

And people may see

Something of me.

For poets make shadows

Through their poetry